Stay With Me
by EwanMcGregorIsMyHomeboy12
Summary: On the eve of her parting for her trials, Siri Tachi pays a visit to an old friend. Old feelings are surfaced, but new truths are hard to conceal...Eventual two-shot
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N) Back to Siriwan, I just love it. This will be an eventual two-shot; with a lot more feels, I promise. Please R and R!**

He hadn't expected her to show up on his doorstep; to arrive right before he had planned to retire to sleep, after Anakin had already gone to bed. He hadn't expected her to talk to him in a unusually quiet voice. Hadn't expected her to sit across from him on the couch. Hadn't expected the conversation to turn to things both had promised to forget. Hadn't expected her lips to land on his. He hadn't expected any of this.

And yet, here she was, her words making every doubt he'd had about them go away in the wake of her presence. He knew this was dangerous, as they moved around his room, the door shut softly behind them, her hands deftly removing his thick articles of clothing. What an unremarkable day it had been to begin with, the apartment empty after Anakin's departure for class; only the weight of his temple duties and the still horrible memories of his mater's death weighing on him.

She had come to him then, after it was over; had given him a hug that was laced with what he only let himself think was friendship. But now, her arms were around him again, holding him in an embrace as she stopped their trek to simply rest her head on his bare chest.

He looped his arms around her, holding her close, breathing in the scent of her hair, the looser strands tickling at his face. "Your hair is longer." She said into his skin, reaching up to trace his jaw, ghosting over the line where his Padawan braid used to hang.

"I've stopped cutting it." He answered with a small smile, leaning into the caress of her fingers over his skin. "I'm sorry if you don't like it." He raised a hand to touch her still wound Padawan braid, as long as the rest of her hair. It wouldn't be long before she would be a knight as he was, she was skilled in every way and ready for the trials as well. They would be Knights together, they could go on missions again.

He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips, but noticed a small tear seeming to come from her eye and instead kissed it away. "We don't have to do this, Siri. I never had to have this from you." But instead of responding, she pulled him down into a fierce kiss, her tongue pressing through his parted lips into his mouth, drawing a moan from him at the unexpected sensation.

"I'm not upset about this, Obi-Wan." She finally answered, kissing her way down his jaw to his throat where she sucked gently on the skin there.

"Siri…" He gasped, his body reacting almost violently at her insistent touches. "Tell me," He managed to say, "Let me help you."

"You are." Her lips were on his chest then, kissing the small scars that were scattered around his skin; He savored the feeling of her there, each brush against his skin shooting seemingly sparks along his body, mostly to his groin, where his pants were becoming slightly uncomfortable. Her fingers stopped their path over his body, making a final trace down the base of his spine before she undid the belt that held up his trousers.

She waited for a moment before she pulled them free with a quick snap, followed by a small thud as it fell to the floor. She started to fiddle with the button, but he pressed the edge of his fingers against her wrist, and she stopped. He pulled her into another kiss, figuring that if they were throwing all they had decided to the wind, he may as well be sure to enjoy it, in case they came to their senses in the morning.

She was heady, and eager to return his affections. He could feel her nudge of approval through the force as he began to peel her tunic over her head, separating their lips for a moment before they came back together; this time his hands spread over the bare expanse of her back.

She pressed against his front, and his reflexes took over, taking hold of her hips to pull her body flush to his, the rough cloth of her bra against his chest. "Siri?" He was surprised how out of breath he was; he had done much more physically strenuous activities without breaking a sweat.

"Hmm?" She said, and took hold of his arm to lift his fingers to the clasp holding her bra together. He glanced down at her chest, knowing she could feel his arousal surge with her body so close to his. His fingers undid the clasp, but he didn't make any motion to remove it. He had to be sure she knew what was happening.

"You know I haven't exactly…" His voice chalked up a bit. "I haven't, ah, partaken in such activities before." He was blushing, and thanked the force it was dark and she couldn't fully see his face.

He heard her giggle, an actual giggle, before she stepped back and pulled the straps from her shoulders. "Don't worry," she said quietly. "I'm sure a Jedi Knight such as yourself can figure some things out." She was teasing him, trying to ease him into something where he normally would have retracted into his shell. Something he had noticed he had done regularly when discussing things with Anakin. Something he would need to work on.

But now, to his chagrin, he couldn't take his eyes off of her body. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding in, regarding her breasts. He felt a push through the force, and his hands went to where his eyes had been, gently kneading the soft skin there. She moaned at his touch, stepping closer to him again. She was captivating; how many times had he pictured this. Touching her like this, hearing her soft voice moaning in his room.

His thumb found her nipple, brushing over it with long strokes until it hardened at his touch. A short thrill shot through him, that he could make her body react like she was making his, that they could exchange soft touches and kisses and it would all be okay when it was over. His mind leapt ahead, to what they could be. They could be the greatest Jedi team that existed, they could be together, finally; they could live without attachment, but survive with love. It would be enough.

He repeated the treatment to her other breast, pulling her into another kiss as his hands worked over her. She stepped forward after, pressing a hand to his chest so that he sat back on the bed, eyes wide as she stepped out of her pants. The view of her legs, long, athletic, made him long again for her contact. He didn't have to wait long, until she offered a hand for him to stand again, sliding her fingers around his waistband, tugging his trousers down to the ground.

Two layers of cloth separated them; he could feel her breath over his heated skin, her hands roaming over his back, tracing the muscles until she tugged at the loose ends of his hair, pulling him down for another kiss to her lips.

He would have been happy to melt into her, to dissolve with her into every fantasy that his mind, in the hours between falling asleep and waking again, had conjured up for him. She was offering that to him now, and he intended to accept it. His body was aching now, his whole body wanted to touch her at once, but none so much as the area she now brushed against with her hand. He broke their kiss, his breathing ragged as she squeezed him gently through the cloth.

"Siri," He said, shutting his eyes, resting his head on her shoulder, his lips in the crook of her neck.

"Come on." She whispered in turn, pulling him towards the bed again, where he sat down for only an instant before her legs were on either side of his hips, straddling him into it. The pressure on his erection was enough to make him buck his hips up into her, feeling the heat radiating from her even through the cloth. He was amazed that she would want him that badly, though his mind was starting to loose its ability to concentrate on anything but the feel of her.

She pressed him down into the blanket, kissing him with her breasts pressed into his chest. He returned it feverishly, sliding his hands down her back, and, following an instinct grasped his hands on her still clothed backside. She moaned at his touch, but he let go of her, embarrassed from his own behavior, but relishing the brief friction that the move had created.

"Eager?" She asked, her tone light. But he could see another tear almost formed on her eyes. He knew she wouldn't want him to mention it, but it hurt him not to. He wanted to help her, kiss this pain away, whatever it was. She was so important to him; more than he could ever tell, but he knew that if it was important enough for her to tell him, she would do it. They were more than good enough friends for that.

"Just a bit." He admitted, and she ground her hips into his, eliciting a loud groan from him. He ran his hands over her sides, then curled them at the edge of her panties, starting to slide them down her legs. She paused, her eyes closed, shuddering slightly as his touch grazed her butt, her thighs, the backs of her legs until she kicked them off. He sat up suddenly, pulling her to his lap where she throbbed against his skin through his shorts. She laid down, hands on his shoulders to pull him over her, and in a moment he was over her fully naked body, waiting on a moment before pressing soft kisses to her face, to her neck, her chest, her breasts, her stomach, all the way down to her navel where he stopped.

His hand came over her hip, parting her thighs gently; with a short glance at her, he moved down through the curls between her legs until she moaned as he slipped slow fingers along her folds. He knew the mechanics of this, but never had he ever thought that touching her, watching her writhe and moan as he moved against a bundle of nerves. She was wet against his skin, and he again marveled that she wanted him so much.

"Obi-Wan," She breathed as he moved against it again, and he drew his hand back, smiling down at her. He moved his hands back to roll off his shorts but her hands closed gently over his, pushing them back off of his hips, over his erection. He kicked them off, and waited, unable to meet her eyes, as she regarded him. He thought his mind might be playing tricks on him, but he thought he heard her gasp before he hand closed over him.

He jerked his hips forward, further into the gentle strokes of her hand, towards the heat that was pulling him closer

"Force, Siri." He was almost beyond his own bounds of control at this point, she was threatening to undo him, break down every wall he'd built for himself.

"Make love to me," She whispered softly. There was the word, which neither had dared to say. She hadn't said she loved him, but it was enough to bring up that seed of guilt again; one he pushed away as her hands left him and went to his shoulder blades.

They both paused for a moment, their breaths slightly out of sync, anticipation running through them at the impending coupling. He guided himself between her thighs, and finally, after years of feelings lingering between them, began to inch his way into her body with an uncontrollable groan.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her heels against him to draw him in closer as he was finally fully inside of her. He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, letting out long breaths to keep his body under control, to make this continue. She was hot, wet; slick enough that when his mind urged his body to move back before thrusting back into her, he did so with ease and a small groan.

She moved under him, grinding her hips up into his as he settled into a steady rhythm. Their breaths came in scarcely uneven paths, mixed with the other's names, grunts, groans, moans. His orgasm was coming quickly, far too quickly for his own liking, but she was grinding her pelvis into his moving hips, moaning his name in time with his thrusts.

Two more thrusts, and he let loose her name in a cry far louder than he would have meant with Anakin on the far side of the apartment. Her body contracted around him, pulling him in deeper, stilling him inside of her as his name came out as a chant between her lips. He held his body over her, propped up on the fronts of his arms, hovering with his skin still pressed against hers, his face buried in her neck.

"Siri…" He whispered, and pulled back, separating them gently before he collapsed next to her, entwining their hands. "Stay with me."

"Tonight?" She asked, turning to curl into his side, and he looked over to see her eyes staring softly back at him.

"For always." And he pulled his blanket around them, not seeing the tear that came to the corner of her eyes, only seeing her as he faded into a heavy sleep. He could only feel the touch of her hands on his face, not hear the quiet sob as she pulled his face to her skin, brushing the soft skin off of his forehead.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke from the most restful sleep he could recall having since Qui-Gon had passed. He felt almost renewed, physically his body was ready for a taxing day of physical work at the temple; mentally, he was elevated to as brilliant plane of understanding, where he could smile before his eyes opened for the first time in a very long time. He stretched, expecting a warmth at his side, the same unaccustomed warmth that had woken him in the middle of the night as Siri had pressed into his side as she slept next to him. He let out a slow breath, recalling pleasant memories of wrapping an arm around her, haring her soft sighs as she had pressed a sleep-ridden kiss to his shoulder before her eyes closed again.

But now the bed next to him was cold, the small depression in the mattress where she had slept the only sign she had been there at all. He sighed, wishing they had been able to wake together; things had been strained between them, then friendly, then precipitous. But now…things could be perfect. But he also understood, feeling that small burn of guilt in his stomach that she must have had early morning business to attend to in the temple. He would reunite with her later, perhaps for dinner. They could talk about moving forward.

But now he had his own business to attend to, even though he blushed as she stood from the bed; realizing he had forgone his clothes, slipping into sleep after they had made love. He stepped into the shower quickly, though he wasn't sure who he thought might see him like this.

* * *

"Are you alright, Master?" Anakin's voice was tentative over his lunch, most of which had consisted of him swirling the contents of his soup bowl in slow circles. "You seem distracted."

"I am fine, Padawan." He wasn't eating his soup either; he felt bad snapping at him, but he was distracted. Siri had left on a mission with Adi Gallia that morning, according to the council, it was one that was unforeseen but essential to the investigation of an Outer Rim slave empire. He had felt uncomfortably guilty at the pang of loss that had hit him at the news. But he could never fault her for putting her responsibilities as a Jedi before speaking with him, there would be time to speak when she returned.

He looked up at Anakin, who was looking miserably down at his soup. The boy was having a hard time adjusting, and Obi-Wan realized that he might not be the most helpful. "I apologize, Anakin." His apprentice glanced up. "I am distracted; I'm not used to having someone be so perceptive." If the boy was surprised, he tried not to show it, but nodded to acknowledge him. "How was class?"

He started tentatively speaking of his assignments and actions, eventually turning into a pleasant chatter. Obi-Wan tried to focus on him, absorbing the information with a small smile to urge him on; but in truth he was still distracted. His mind on a night that would forever live in his memory, and a future that seemed to be so incredibly close.

* * *

" _She has left."_ He could picture Adi Gallia saying the words to him days later in the doorway of their once shared room. But he hadn't believed her. She couldn't be gone.

The rest of the day had been a blur. He couldn't remember speaking more than five words to Anakin at dinner. And now, he laid in the bed they had shared less than a week before. His mind was at war with itself; half filled with memories of her, both old and new. The moment he had realized he loved her, followed by their shared confession of love. The feel of her bare skin on his, of kissing her deeply as he pressed her back into the bed, of her voice saying his name over and over again, of the immeasurable feelings that had burned between them. And the other half was angry. More angry than he had felt since he had seen Darth Maul fell his master. Angry at her for leaving, but more at himself for allowing this attachment to come to rest so strongly in his brain.

He stared at the ceiling, running his hands over his face, feeling the scratchiness of his beard starting to come in. He turned on his side, the bed feeling almost unbearably cold, horribly empty. He pressed his face into the pillow next to him, trying to force his emotions from his face. He was stronger than this. He was a Jedi Knight; it was just so hard to believe. How could she have left? Turned her back on the beliefs that had both shared so strongly? Beliefs that they had refused to betray, even it meant they couldn't be together? He felt his stomach turning, understanding now what true betrayal felt like.

But it was more than that. Buried under all of this rage, all of this anger about her departure, all of this self-targeted resentment was something far stronger. He could still feel the love for her, carried since he was seventeen; pressing against his heart, threatening to overwhelm him. Of all the things he was feeling, it was the strongest. It was the hardest. It was the worst.


End file.
